


Coffee & Cadets

by queenofseventeen



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, I hope at least, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Recovery, Slow Burn, andrew only has one foot, barista!neil, like almost everything is fluff, only mature because of small bursts of violence and because of dealing with psychological issues, soldier!Andrew, there is a little angst tho, this is full fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofseventeen/pseuds/queenofseventeen
Summary: Andrew was in the army and just back from his latest tour, without his left foot.Neil is the barista at the local coffee shop Nicky keeps dragging him to.orthe one where Andrew is a shitty flirter and neil remembers how he likes his coffee. A story of healing.





	1. What to do with free time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for opening this fic. Bigger thank you to Evan for being a lovely beta and friend and calling me out on my shit (which wasn't just this fic).
> 
> Just a little trigger warning here  
> Suicidal thoughts (for two or three lines only but be safe)  
> Mention of past trauma
> 
> If there are warnings I missed please let me know!  
> Have fun with my little self indulgence.

Andrew rubbed scar cream over the stump where his left foot used to be. He had already been missing it for three months but it felt like yesterday that he had been walking on it. That might’ve been because of his prosthetics. 

 

He fastened it and started walking towards the bathroom, the kitchen, his closet. It was a routine he was setting for himself. The ways of the army still in his muscles. He should check out the local gym, see if he could get some weights in. As he was pouring another cup of sweetened coffee his phone chirped. He dropped his mug against the counter. He was lucky to not break it. He wasn’t so lucky as to not burn his fingers on the liquid spilling across the counter. Cursing Andrew reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Nicky had texted him. Of course, it was Nicky. 

 

**||Feel like going out for coffee?**

 

Andrew didn’t want to. He was already on his second cup and the doctor told him he needed to lay off the caffeine. His doctor also told him to get out of the house more often. Nicky had promised to take him to the park. With Nicky next to him, there might not be as many people staring at him. Who was he kidding? People would always stare. 

 

Regardless Andrew wanted to go out. He didn’t care what people thought about him. He didn’t care about anything. With a bit of difficulty, he pulled on his shoes, grabbed his coat and keys and left his apartment. It might have been a good thing that Nicky texted him.

 

**

 

He took it back. It was a bad thing he ever left the apartment that day. Everyone stared at him. At the shaved jaw, the short hair that was still growing in after shaving it off in Iran. Kids pointed at his feet and the way he walked a bit like a duck. 

 

He wanted to turn around and crawl into bed. 

 

He saw the cafe from the end of the street. The storefront was an ugly beige. Andrew hated the pink accents on the window sills even more. Why Nicky wanted to meet here of all places was one of the reasons why Andrew wanted to punch or gut or just plain kill his cousin. 

 

He opened the door and a sweet smell filled his nose. Okay, maybe Nicky didn’t have that bad of a taste in coffee shops. If the treats tasted anything like how they smelled he would be in heaven soon enough. He spotted his cousin easily enough. Nicky was leaning against the counter as the barista was helping other customers. The boy behind the counter was pretty. He wore a bandana that pushed the auburn curls out of his face. And his eyes. His eyes. There were blue. Like ice. Like the noon sky. Like the streaks in Renee's hair.

 

Andrew walked up to his cousin and passed the line of five people. “Did you also order for me?” He asked in lieu of saying hello. Nicky jumped a bit making the barista chuckle. The scars on his face stretched with his smile. He was beautiful. No, Andrew reminded himself. He couldn’t be getting attached. He was in the army, oh no, not anymore. But still, he had PTSD, he was a danger to a pretty boy like that. He couldn’t even try and get attached. He’d only hurt him. 

 

“Hello, Aaron, nice to see you again. I see you dropped your manners in the gutter again this morning,” the barista said without looking up. He filled a cup with espresso and dropped it in front of Andrew. Then he looked up. His eyes widened at the hair and the plain expression. “You’re not Aaron. Nicky told me he had another cousin. He forgot to mention you were twins. Do you like espresso or do I need to whip something else up?” The barista turned away for a second to help a customer and snatched two cookies out of the glass case on the counter. “Take these cookies and sit down at one of the tables. I will come bring your order soon enough.” 

 

Andrew cocked his head as the barista jotted down two more orders and started making the coffees. “I didn’t tell you what I wanted yet.” 

 

Pretty boy stopped and turned to Andrew. “Well, what do you want?” Freedom, joy, his left fucking foot.

 

“The sweetest thing you can come up with,” he said instead before walking away towards Nicky.

 

It took almost ten minutes before the line dwindled enough for pretty boy to come to their table. He set down a latte for Nicky, two cookies on a platter and a large mug filled to the brim with whipped cream and syrups. “What’s in there?” Andrew asked.

 

“You asked for the sweetest thing I could come up with. That’s an espresso shot, foamed milk, chocolate and caramel syrup, whipped cream and a hint of cocoa powder. I think I need a minute to settle my stomach just from looking at it.” Neil indeed looked disgusted. Andrew shrugged and took a sip, whipped cream clinging to his upper lip. 

 

“You forgot the sugar,” he said. Pretty boy took a step back his eyebrows drawn together. “I normally take my coffee with sugar but then again I don’t normally drink it with syrups either. It’s decent.” Now the younger man put his hands in his sides.

 

“Decent? Decent! You ask me to make you a monster of a drink and you call it decent. Well, I’m sorry, Mr. not Aaron, that it’s not living up to your disgusting standards.” 

 

Hm, maybe Andrew wouldn’t flay Nicky yet for picking out the ostentatious cafe. But no, no, no. Pretty boy had actually signed the cup with not-Aaron. “My standards aren’t disgusting.” Andrew had a habit of indulging in sugar and carbs when not on a tour. Nicky never puts enough in the care packages. “My name is Andrew, by the way. I don’t like people calling me Aaron.” He didn’t particularly enjoy Aaron either. His brother was a pest he had to live with. Had to check up on and keep safe even from so far away. Andrew was just glad that Nicky’s boyfriend, no, fiance, had finally come to the states. Aaron needed someone besides that awful girlfriend to check up on him now and then. 

 

“Well, Andrew, My name is Neil. I’m here from Monday till Friday. The cafe is closed on Sundays.” Neil didn’t reach out to pat his shoulder, something Andrew was infinitely grateful for. “This cup is on the house. Got to show a little respect for a soldier,” Neil said before winking. He ruffled Nicky’s hair and walked back to the bar where a girl with rainbow tipped hair stood. A girl Andrew sure recognized but he wouldn’t tell her that. 

 

It was a shame to leave the sweetened coffee on the table but Andrew couldn’t stay in that cafe for longer. He couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. Not when Renee was behind the counter. Not when Renee had known him even before the army. He didn’t want to handle her sweet-Christian-girl attitude just than. He put a couple of dollars on the table for Nicky’s coffee.

 

“Neil told you it was on the house,” Nicky pointed out. 

 

Andrew shrugged. His cousin was trying, maybe it was time for him to try too now that he didn’t have anything else to do. “It’s for yours. I’ve gotta go.” He made a two-fingered salute and stumbled away from the table before limping through the door and out of the cafe. Seems like he wasn’t going back to that place. Even if Neil had made one of the best coffees Andrew had had in a long while.

 

He couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. Wouldn’t let Renee see him in this pathetic state.

 

**

 

Andrew turned a corner and another and another. He forgot how long he had been walking. This used to be nothing. Should be nothing but his legs felt like lead and his foot was dragging and, and, and... Andrew stopped and sat down on the nearest bench at the side of the road. 

 

It had been days since he had visited the cafe. Had been days since Renee had to send him text after text hoping to meet up since Nicky had told her he was back. 

 

It had been, had been, had been. 

 

Had been like his career, like pins on his uniform, like his foot. Some days he wished that bomb would’ve ended it. Just plain ended it. A bit of pain and gore but at least Andrew wouldn’t have to live as a disappointment.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text from Nicky. 

 

**||Where are u?? You didn't say you were going out today.**

 

It was followed by another couple of texts all with the same message. Andrew didn’t respond. 

 

He didn’t have to tell Nicky where he was going. He was a grown man. A grown man who was touch repulsed and had PTSD but a grown man. A grown man at 5’0 feet tall. Andrew put his head in his hands before standing up. 

 

He needed to go home. Nicky didn’t deserve to worry about him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket when that same small cafe got his attention. The foxhole was still an ugly beige and Andrew could see pretty boy behind the counter. There weren’t too many people and his ankle began to hurt. He opened a text message to Nicky. 

 

**||At the Foxhole. Use punctuation and grammar, idiot.**

 

A moment later his phone pinged again.

 

**||Can I come?**

 

Andrew debated it for a moment before saying yes. If Nicky was there, he wouldn’t get a chance to attack every middle-aged soccer mom who thought to ask about his foot. Hm, maybe he should’ve said no instead.

 

A bell rang as he stepped into the store and pretty boy looked up from cleaning the counter. He took a moment to study Andrew before saying, “Hey, not Aaron. Do you want another of those monstrosities?”

 

Andrew walked closer to the bar and nodded. Why was he here? The coffee was decent and his leg hurt but he could be at home reading. He shouldn’t have gone outside. Nicky worried and the loud noises on the street made his head hurt. 

 

A loud sound filtered through his ears and Andrew turned around as fast as he could with the fake foot. Blood was rushing through his ears and his eyes scanned around. Something was wrong, something was wrong. Something. Was. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. And-

 

“Andrew, your coffee is done.” Neil’s voice filtered through the implosion inside his head. Andrew turned around and blinked a couple of times to clear his sight. He frowned at the sweet concoction in front of him. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll join you. It’s quiet at the moment and I can always call Renee to take the counter for me.”

 

“Don’t,” Andrew said. “I’ve sort of been avoiding Renee. I don’t want her to see me like this.” Andrew’s eyes bore into Neil’s when the taller boy cocked his head. 

 

“Then I won’t but I might have to get up a couple of times.” Andrew nodded and walked over to an empty table.

 

Neil made a coffee for himself, black, and sat down in front of Andrew. “I don’t get why you’d avoid Renee. Once you get over the forgive, forget, and love part she’s the nicest person I know.” 

 

Andrew wondered if the boy had ever been on the other side of a knife. The scars on his face suggested he'd seen worse than the sparring Renee and Andrew had done. “I lost my foot. I don’t want her to see me weak.”

 

“Getting up without your foot isn’t weak. You went out the door, you’re stronger than I was when I first got my scars.” Neil gestured to his face and then to his arms. Andrew caught the flash of what looked to be burn marks.

 

“Cigarettes?”

 

“Car lighter. Bad bullet?”

 

“Roadside bomb.” 

 

Neil nodded twice before sipping his coffee. Andrew didn’t get it. Why wasn’t he asking more questions? Neil was too quiet with those pale blue eyes. Andrew found himself not wanting to look away. What a stupid thought. What would Neil want with someone as broken as him?

 

Andrew was spared the ridicule from that thought when Nicky burst into the shop. 

 

“You  _ are  _ here! I know you texted me you were but I didn’t think you were actually telling me the truth.” Neil raised a brow at Andrew who shrugged. He wasn’t going to act like he hadn’t done it before. Once he even messed up his deploying date because he didn’t want Nicky to cry at the airport. Crying Nicky on the phone a couple days later was even worse. 

 

“Well, I did. Coffee to go on me. You said you’d show me the park one day.” The smile on Nicky’s face was almost worth it, Andrew told himself. One day, he might be able to smile like that. The small thing that he wore when his squad were cleaning their weapons. 

 

Andrew knew he wouldn’t smile like that again. Those moments were gone. The chance to save people was gone. Nicky didn’t even truly need him to protect him. He had his husband, the personal trainer. Andrew had nothing against Erik. He wasn’t sure if Erik was okay with Andrew but that didn’t matter. It was Nicky’s choice in the end and Nicky was loyal. Really loyal. 

 

Andrew supposed the only thing he could do to repay Nicky for that loyalty was indulging him. Andrew shook his good foot before standing up. Nicky was waiting with his coffee in his hand and a cane in the other. How had Andrew missed that? He should’ve seen that. 

 

"You've probably been walking forever. The doctor and Aaron agree that a cane might help with the strain, " Nicky babbled. Andrew wanted to smash him over the head with the cane. He didn't.  Instead, he grabbed the cane and put his weight on it. He almost slipped and fell to the ground. He wanted to burn the cane. 

 

It should burn.

 

It could burn.

 

He needed it.

 

He hated that he needed it.

 

Andrew knew he had to do the right thing and say bye to Neil. Only Neil wasn’t behind the counter. Renee stood there. She still wore her hair with the stupid rainbow tips. 

 

She waved at him. Andrew’s face drew a blank. He saw Nicky smile but Andrew turned around and hobbled out of the cafe. He didn’t want to speak to her. Not yet at least.

 

He wasn’t strong like Neil said he was. He only needed a little more time before he could fake it.


	2. Foot and lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew goes to dinner at Nicky and Erik's. Andrew also gets in a fight (unrelated) and has to be saved by a mysterious man and gets another cup of coffee.
> 
> TW: allusions to disassociation, violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving you all for months. Truly am. I got a bit hung up on my big bang piece but with that out of the way I'll keep this my only ongoing story for a while. Have fun!

The park was okay. Nicky was too excitable about getting Andrew out of his house though. The dinner with Nicky's husband Erik afterward wasn't good. Too many loud sounds. Too much talking. The flirting didn't help but at least they had stopped coddling him.   
  
Andrew had left their house around ten. Nicky handed him the cane without comment. Andrew might miss the day where Erik and he had been able to talk about workout routines. Aaron told him it was best to start slow.   
  
Start slow. As if everything wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace. It was all too slow. His mind, his body, his emotions.   
  
What emotions?   
  
As soon as he walked into his own ground floor apartment he dropped his walls. He didn’t want Nicky to know. Didn’t want anyone to know how hard it still was. The walls were slowly creeping in on him. He did the only thing he knew. Confront them.    
  
He shed his black t-shirt, his armbands, switched his pants for softer, pliant ones. The bed was made with sharp corners. The whole room was clean. Andrew sat down at the edge of his bed. He unhooked the prosthetic foot. Where did he leave the scar cream?    
  
There. In the second drawer of his nightstand. The clock was glaring red. It wasn’t even 11 pm but he was tired. Walking all day. Talking to people. It took a toll on him.   
  
The ceiling was getting closer. Andrew rubbed the scar cream at the spot where his ankle was supposed to be. Once finished he crawled under the blankets and pressed his back against the wall. It was something he didn’t miss about the barracks. The safety of a solid wall in his back.    
  
He tried counting sheep. Every time he woke up he started over. One, two, three, Neil’s eyes shining that ridiculous blue, four, five six. He pushed his fists against his eyes. These short naps weren’t enough to survive tomorrow. Not when he had to visit Bee.   
  
Stupid memory. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Andrew opened his eyes. The room was lit up red by his alarm clock. 4 am. Should he text Nicky? Andrew could say he was going for a walk. He could say he was coming to eat breakfast with Nicky and Erik.   
  
That would take the practicality out of his own apartment though.    
  
Would he do it? No. Should he? No. No. No.   
  
Andrew sat up and pulled his phone from the charger. 

  
**|| I’m going outside. Will be back at my place before lunch.**

  
The response came almost instantly. Andrew tried not to feel anything. Nicky wasn’t worried. He couldn’t be.

  
**|| Do you want me to walk with you?**

**  
** **|| No.**   
  
Andrew texted back. He needed to get his thoughts in a row. Preferably somewhere where he could be alone. And outside. Not inside. Not the walls.    
  
Andrew didn’t put the stupid foot on again. He slipped a sock over the stump and grabbed his crutches. He did not like the crutches. Who liked using crutches? Who liked needing a prosthetic foot?   
  
Not Andrew.   
  
It didn’t matter what Andrew liked.   
  
It never mattered to anyone.   
  
As soon as the door to his apartment building shut behind Andrew he regretted going outside. He wasn’t in the right state of mind to walk around open roads. He should text Nicky to say yes. Walking around alone was stupid. Being afraid was stupid. No, it isn’t stupid. Bee’s voice rang in his ears. You’ve suffered through something traumatic. It is okay to be afraid. Andrew hadn’t been afraid in a long, long, long time.    
  
Not since his first days at the front. Not since he was sent on his first tour. Not since his days in foster care. Not since Nicky had called him to Aaron had been in a car accident and come out unscathed.    
  
Now every step outside, in the dark, was a challenge. A challenge he was willing to accept.    
  
Andrew had made a mistake. A big mistake. He didn’t know it until he was half an hour away from his apartment. He didn’t know where he was. He might have known in daylight but the moon didn’t shine so bright. Had it always been so dark at night? Yes. Yes, it had been.   
  
In the distance, nightclub music could be heard. That was a clue.    
  
He made his way over hobbling on his crutches. He felt the bass in his bones. The lights were bright. The voices too loud. Andrew should have known better. He shouldn’t go to nightclubs. Not on his own. Not feeling like this.    
  
He made his way just a little closer. That way he could use the light from the club to see the buttons on his phone. Maybe Nicky was right. He should have gotten a smartphone.   
  
He finished pounding Nicky’s number into the keys when a couple of drunk men came at him. Andrew scoffed. If they’d make any trouble he would be able to handle them. He had army training. The crutches dug into his elbows. He forgot. The sleepless night made him forget. It was like having a fantom foot. One moment it’s there and the next it wasn’t. He even missed his prosthetic.   
  
Not having feet and walking with his crutches. It didn’t feel so secure. Andrew hobbled out of the way. Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. When the men reached him he was cornered against the wall.    
  
He could slam his crutches into their sides but then he’d have to stand on one foot. Not impossible but irritating in a fight. He hadn’t felt this nervous about a fight in a long long time. Sweat formed on his brow. It couldn’t be fear. He wouldn’t let it be fear. It was probably exertion.    
  
One of the men who stopped in front of him was young. Probably twenty-one years old. He was at least a foot taller than Andrew. He had two feet, big hands, short hair. Andrew could tie the strands above his undercut into a small bun.    
  
“Look guys! The homeless guy only got one foot. I might be tempted to give him a dollar if he knows how to dance,” the guy said. Andrew wanted to punch his teeth out. Andrew regretted wearing sweats.    
  
Andrew should ignore him. He knew he should. He almost talked back. Memories of his last bar brawl distracted him.   
  
_ “Aaron, have you seen Nicky? His shift is almost over,” Andrew asked his twin. Aaron shook his head and looked back at his phone. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Nicky will come out soon enough. I’m sure he’s just talking to Roland.” But Roland was behind the bar. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Andrew knew Roland was behind the bar. It’s where he dropped the older man off after they hooked up. He left Aaron at the empty table and walked around. He should be able to see Nicky in the empty room. Perhaps he was taking out the trash. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Andrew opened the door and heard the shouting. “Please, stop. Please!” Nicky. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Andrew ran towards the sound and found four guys beating up his cousin. The only person willing to take a chance on Andrew. The cousin who had taken him in when he was only eighteen years old himself.  _ __   
  
He was ripped from that memory by a punch in the face. He stumbled. His crutches only threw him off kilter.    
  
“I said dance,” the asshole said.    
  
Andrew wiped the blood off his face but he couldn’t punch back. Couldn’t do anything as the group of men surrounded him and started throwing more punches. The stench of alcohol filtered through his nose.    
  
Somewhere further away he heard someone yell. It sounded vaguely familiar but his memory abandoned him. He tried to shield his face. Not being able to fight back was one of the single most terrifying things that had happened to him in years. Second only to one thing.   
  
Waking up with no sound. Waking up with phantom limbs. Waking up to realize he had to start his life over. Waking up without his foot. He was lucky enough to keep the rest of his leg. Lucky. That’s what they called him.   
  
He looked up one last time at the young man in front of him. Andrew smiled. A sick smile. All teeth and menace. The next hit landed on his temple and the world faded to black.   
  
**   
  
Andrew woke up with a deep sigh. His head and back hurt. He knew his mattress was bad but this was worse. He turned on his back and rubbed his eyes. He had to get a new bed soon but that meant having money for a new bed and rent was already steep.    
  
He opened his eyes and looked up at a high ceiling. Wait a minute, high ceiling? His apartment was smaller than that, wasn’t it? He sat up feeling his whole body ache. He was lying on an old-fashioned, red couch. The pillows were embroidered with the English flag. They were also too small to be comfortable. He was lying in someone else’s living room. There was no way this was Nicky’s house or his own. Aaron’s was filled with pictures of his wife and he didn’t know anyone else with a giant glass door. Andrew squinted his eyes at the door, where did he leave his glasses? And was that a backyard? The snow made it hard to see the difference between the white wall and the ground outside.   
  
It was official. He was kidnapped. He knew nobody with a backyard. He would remember that. He scrubbed his face for a hot second. The skin felt grated like someone had slammed his head against a wall.    
  
Cold metal touched his left ankle, well, stump. Chills shot up his body. It was cold but the house wasn’t really. He grabbed the crutches and stood up. He wanted to get out of there. He was sure it could never be the house of the guys who beat him up but he didn’t want to know any stranger who might live there.   
  
Getting up off the couch was painful and Andrew hated himself for making so much noise. He was taught to be quieter than that. The limp did not help with that. He hobbled to the door and it opened with him just in front of it.    
  
Red hair covered half a face from under an orange knitted hat. A face almost as red as the hair peaked out from a slightly different tinted orange scarf. The only thing saving the look was the dark grey coat. Andrew appreciated the combination of auburn hair and dark grey clothes. It made everything stand out just a little more.    
  
“You’re up,” the man in the door said. “Great, you must be hungry.”   
  
He began unwinding his scarf and from under the fabric came Neil. “You kidnapped me,” Andrew said.   
  
“Saved you from a bunch of hooligans,” Neil answered. He threw his coat and shoes down at the side of the hallway. Andrew had to work to climb over them with his crutches. Guess where he never wanted to return without his foot. Not even with his foot if he didn’t clean up a bit.    
  
“Who said I needed saving?” Andrew entered the kitchen. Neil started the coffee machine, something fancy with a milk foamer, and grabbed two mugs.   
  
“The guys in the bar I was at. You probably don’t want to hear it but maybe don’t go out in the dark if you don’t feel well enough to protect yourself. I know you can but not like that.”    
  
Andrew kept his face blank. He would not give Neil the satisfaction of him getting angry. His jaw clenched. He stood for a little while longer while Neil prepared two cups of coffee. One with the right amount of sugar and milk Andrew liked at the store.    
  
“Sorry, I don’t have whipped cream,” Neil said. He sat down on one side of the kitchen island. The granite was black and the bar chairs were also.    
  
Andrew didn’t reply. He did sit down. He told himself it was only because the crutches were aggravating some bruises. He told himself he wasn’t staying because Neil saved him or that Neil was even capable of liking a mess like Andrew. Nicky told him at dinner that Neil wasn’t even interested in people. He was looking into a pet last time Nicky spoke him.    
  
He sipped his coffee and suddenly felt tired again. He didn’t want to sleep but being with other people like this took too much energy. Even if Neil was interesting, Andrew just wanted to be alone. He gulped down the rest of his coffee and stood up again. He couldn’t have people around him right now.    
  
He didn’t thank Neil. Didn’t even tell him a real goodbye. “The coffee wasn’t awful,” he said. He lifted himself off the chair and hobbled away. Neil followed him to the door and handed him an ever worse hat then he had been wearing. With the pattering, it looked like the one Nicky had given him a Christmas or four ago. Andrew knew it wasn’t. His hat was tucked away in a box in some storage with the rest of his winter clothes. He should ask Nicky to get help get them.    
  
Andrew took the hat and after struggling to get it on with the crutches allowed Neil to put it on for him. Even the minimal touches made his skin crawl. He didn’t thank Neil for helping him this time either.    
  
“Will I see you at the cafe again?” Neil asked when he opened the door. Andrew didn’t reply. “I’ll take it as a yes. Let Nicky take you or come alone. Renee isn’t there on Wednesdays but that does mean you have to put up with Matt.”    
  
Andrew had already started walking. Neil didn’t stop until he reached the street. Even when Andrew heard him dial Nicky. Something about Andrew being on the streets again. To give him time. Didn’t he always need more time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving and coming back with this messy half angst. Hope you enjoyed it anyway!  
> -Queen-of-seventeen


	3. Sugar, sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew gets kicked out and Neil makes him and offer. This chapter contains sugar in the form of Brookies and half-fluff. It contains a cute Matt, encouragement to talk to old friends and the urge to get reactions, good or bad, out of relatives. 
> 
> Tw:  
> \- minor depressive episode  
> \- panic attacks  
> \- ptsd  
> -losing ones home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the song by the Archies.  
> This chapter contains one single scene. That scene is also over 3.1k long. I had to cut it off somewhere and this felt right. Please enjoy this. I know I did while writing it.

It took Andrew three days to get out of bed. Nicky had come by on the days he didn’t have to work. He left food and made sure Andrew drank at least something. He had even offered to help him shower. Andrew had refused. He did not want someone else’s hands on him. he did not want to be touched. He want to be alone. 

 

He was tired. He was so tired. Tired of using the crutches. Tired of putting on his foot. Tired of waking up in the morning. 

 

He had left Neil’s house on a monday. Neil had said Renee wouldn’t be at work on wednesday. What choice did he have but believe Neil? None. Nada. 

 

He sat up and tapped his foot on the ground. First shower. Later he’d think of what he wanted to do with his day. He might need to find a job. Use that fancy degree he had. Was that already four years ago. Degree at twenty one, one year on the army, half year off, one year one, half year off, one… No half a year on again. He had to leave almost half a year ago. 

 

He shed his shirt and boxers before stepping into the shower. He left the armbands on. The multicolored bruises still stained his flesh. The water was cold. It wasn’t that bad. At least he wasn’t living in Nicky’s guest room anymore. Then the water cut out. He paid the bills, didn’t he? Money was tight but he had paid. 

 

He had just dressed into sweatpants and a black turtleneck when a knock sounded on his door. He could feel the knives in their sheaths. He took a deep breath. He wore his foot. Nothing would be going wrong. Maybe he should call Nicky in the background just in case.

 

No. Nicky would see it as a sign of weakness. He would not call Nicky for something as stupid as opening the door. Even if he lived in a bad neighbourhood. Even if he had no idea was stood in front of the door. He would not be calling Nicky. 

 

He opened the door. The landlord was standing in front of his apartment. “Minyard, ey?” 

 

The man ran a hand through his hair and pushed himself into the apartment. The touch made Andrew want to take a shower all over again. “Are you here about the water? It cut off mid shower, but I don’t recall calling you,” Andrew said.

 

The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, Minyard. You have to be out by the end of the week. There is someone else willing to pay double of what you are right now. I’ve seen your credits you can’t go up against that.”

 

“I’m a veteran.” Andrew didn’t like stating the obvious. He also didn’t like pulling the pity card. He just really needed that apartment. 

 

“And I want the money. Be out by the end of the week.” The man raked a hand through his greasy hair. He grabbed a croissant of the counter. Nicky had only brought it for Andrew yesterday. “End of the week, you hear me. I don’t want to call the cops on you buddy.” 

 

He didn’t even close the door behind him. Andrew slid against the cupboards to the ground. This could not be happening. Was this even legal. He didn’t think so but then again- It had been four years since he got his degree in criminology. That was when he still thought he wanted to be a lawyer. He would’ve been one if it wasn’t for the army. At least he got to protect some people.

 

And all of that for protecting Nicky. Andrew laid his head in his hands. This was useless. He was going to need to ask Nicky for a room. At least until he found something else. Something within his price range. Maybe he should get a loan and try to get into law school. Like that wasn’t a dumb idea. How was he getting into law school. He graduated too long ago. 

 

Why didn’t it just end? That bomb should’ve been the end.

 

It took him minutes- No, they might’ve been hours already, before Andrew got himself up from the floor. He found his shoes and coat and a hat before heading out the door. He didn’t want to stay in that lousy apartment. Not now. Not again. He’d ask Nicky to pick up his stuff. Maybe have Erik show off his muscles for once. 

 

He kept trying to form a plan till he got to the Foxhole. The storefront was still the same, ugly beige. Neil should really have it painted over someday. A color less muddled. Even if the muddle resembled Andrew’s mind quite well. 

 

He didn’t see Neil standing behind the counter. The guy was impossible tall, dark skinned and curly haired. He wasn’t bad looking. If only he didn’t smile constantly.

 

Andrew walked closer and the guy yelled out to him. “Hey, Aaron! I’ll get to you in a second, okay?” 

 

Andrew bypassed the short line. “I’m Aaron’s clone. Are you alone in the shop?”

 

The guy’s face scrunched up all confused. Andrew liked him even less. “Neil is in the back baking. Should I call him for you?” 

 

At Andrew’s nod he did. Neil came out. The front of his shirt was covered in flower and his hair was sticking up. There might even be cake batter in it. Andrew did not want to help him get it out. He did not want to wipe the flour from his face or the apparent sleep from his eyes. Andrew did not even want to see Neil.

 

He had never told so many lies to himself.

 

“Andrew!” Neil smiles. Mouth too wide and teeth too sharp. His hands already running over shelves under the counter to come up with a bright yellow mug Andrew had never seen before. “Nicky said you might be coming back here. Said he needed to stock up on whipped cream. Not that that’s my fault. He brought you here.”

 

Andrew noticed that the chair besides the counter was vacated and sat down. “I did not plan on coming here.”

 

Neil’s eyes flitted to the top of Andrew’s head and he smiled even bigger. That should’ve been impossible. Andrew noticed that two teeth in the right corner of his mouth weren’t straight. Did the man never get braces as a teenager? 

 

“I think you were,” Neil said. “You even brought my hat. I don’t see a replacement so you can keep it for a while longer, my friends keep giving them.” Neil had long, skinny fingers. Andrew did not look at them after he had sat the mug down. Maybe he did but that wasn’t a crime. “What are you doing here?”

 

Neil walked around the counter and sat down besides Andrew. Andrew had no idea what time it was. Somewhere in the middle of the morning? Or would it already be closing time? He didn’t know. He should care less. 

 

He sipped his coffee. Neil didn’t watch Andrew’s mouth. Not even when he left a bit of cream there on purpose. Guess Neil wasn’t interested. Another reason to the list of why Andrew Minyard should stop thinking about making out with Neil- What was his last name?

 

“I had expected you earlier,” Neil said. He caught a bottle of water that the bartender threw at him. “I told you to stop by today.”

 

Andrew frowned at him. The coffee had just enough cream and there might’ve been some cocoa powder in there. 

 

“Okay, so I didn’t tell you to stop by. I insinuated it. I wanted you to try out this new sweet I’m baking. They’re a bit cold now though.” He held up a finger for Andrew to wait. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. So he waited. 

 

It took Neil almost five minutes, one which was spend yelling at Matt, to get out of the kitchen again. He came back with a small box and a blue plate. Again with the stupid pastel colors. On the plate lay something that could be cake or a cookie or a brownie or all of it at the same time. It looked as if Neil had thought of every sweet thing he could imagine and threw it into the same pan. Andrew didn’t know what to think of it. Or if it was even safe to consume. 

 

“What is this?” Andrew asked. 

 

Neil took a while to reply. “Matt calls them brookies. He had them at Disney world. I don’t really like sweets so I wondered if you would try them out.” 

 

Andrew didn’t answer him for a while. His face was carefully blank as he looked between Neil and the ‘things’ on the plate. It set Neil off to ramble. “They’re safe. I tasted them and I didn’t get sick but as I said I don’t really like sweets and you seem to love them. Well at least you like sweet coffee. If you don’t like them you have to be honest. If you do they might get on the menu. I’m not sure yet. It takes a bit of work to make but so does pumpkin pie and we have that every fall too.”

 

Andrew interrupted him. “You made these for me.” It wasn’t a question but Neil confirmed it either way. Andrew took a bit of one of the brookies as the elusive Matt person called them. Apparently they were part brownie and part cookie. Chocolate chip. Andrew didn’t believe in a god but that cookie might’ve been what heaven tastes like. He wanted to eat a couple more but he didn’t want to see a smug look on Neil’s face. He didn’t think he could handle that. “They’re not bad,” he settled on saying. 

 

“Not bad? What can I do with a not bad? Any changed you think I should make?” Neil had sat on his hands the whole time but now he was picking one of the sweets apart with nimble fingers. What would they feel like in Andrew’s hair? Not that he wanted Neil to touch any part of him, but still he wondered. 

 

“Don’t change them.” Andrew grabbed another one. Who cared? Neil already knew he liked them anyway.

 

Neil’s grin was telling. The scars on his cheeks pulled a bit when he smiled. It only made him look younger. Prettier. Like the pretty boy Andrew had seen that first time in the shop. Could that even be the same Neil? He might just be a pipe dream. Back then and still. 

 

Neil was back to sitting on top of his hands. Would he stay that still if Andrew kissed him? No, Neil wasn’t interested in anyone like that. Nicky had said that and Andrew had confirmed it for himself just minutes ago. Had it been minutes? Or had it been hours already? It was hard to remember time when sleeping and waking were both nightmares in their own rights. Waking was full of phantom pain and fear of not being himself. Dreaming was a land where he lost his feet or arm or head or family in the roadside accident. No matter what happened he was still alive. 

 

Waking was no better than dreaming but at least daylight made him see Neil. Neil with hair just slightly darker than a sunset sky and eyes the colour of noon. 

 

Andrew shook himself on the inside. He could not think about that. Neil was not one of his. Neil was not an option for him either. Careful, careful, careful. When was his next appointment with Bee? In two days already? Well that took long enough. At least he had a story for her this time. If only she didn’t look at him as if he was actually making progress. Someday maybe. Someday was not today. 

 

Turns out the guy behind the bar was the elusive Matt. When he left he didn’t lock the door. He did turn the sign above the door to closed. The sun was already setting. Winter time, Andrew reminded himself. The sun disappears early these days. 

 

“If you answer my question you can ask me anything. Just answer one question,” Neil said.

 

Andrew nodded with the brookie still in his mouth. He may be a monster but Nicky raised him well. Neil didn’t ask the question before Andrew swallowed. 

 

“Why did you come at closing time?” His eyes were wide. Andrew didn’t like it when he looked at him like that. Too close. Too open. Go away! Stop it! 

 

“You’re staring,” is what he said instead. He grabbed another sweet but didn’t eat it. He broke it to pieces. “I didn’t want to come,” he continued. “And I didn’t know it was that late already. Getting thrown out of your own home after a couple bad days does that to you.” 

 

Andrew didn’t look away from Neil’s face when he said it. He didn’t want anything but watching him was interesting. Neil didn’t look pitying. “Did you eat anything substantial today besides the brookies?”

 

“Did you?”

 

“Take out?”

 

“Chinese.”

 

“Dumplings?”

 

“Also spring rolls.”

 

Neil stood up to walk behind the bar and picked up a phone. It was simply grey. No weird colours. Against the rest of the shops interior it felt strange.

 

Andrew waited for Neil to sit down again before coming up with a question. There was a lot he wanted to know. Except Neil spoke before he could.

 

“I have a spare room in my home if you need somewhere to sleep.” 

 

Andrew frowned. This could not be real. Neil truly was a pipe dream. An illusion. Not real. How many more ways could his brain come up with to torture him. 

 

“Why?” Andrew 

 

“You don’t have a place to stay and my house is too big for just me anyway.”

 

“I don’t need you pity.” Andrew stood up. Slowly. He tested his stability a little before -trying to- march to the door.

 

“Andrew, stop,” Neil said. He was faster than Andrew. It was the first thing he noticed. The second thing was how Neil walked around him to stop Andrew without touching him. It was strange and refreshing. A small part of Andrew felt overwhelmed. How could Neil seem so  _ good.  _ Andrew squashed the feeling as soon as he felt it.

 

“It isn’t pity,” Neil said. “My uncle bought the house for me. He didn’t care that I would live there on my own.” A smile crept over his lips like a predator. Like Andrew was the fucking lamb, hint he wasn’t, and Neil the lion and he finally had Andrew where he wanted him. “So in a way I’m asking you to take pity on me. I mean I’m all alone there whenever I’m not working. Anything could happen to me. And having a soldier, like you, to protect me will certainly make me feel better.”

 

Andrew ground his teeth together. His dentist had warned him about doing that too often. Neil was right he did have Andrew in a tight spot. Andrew didn’t have a place to stay anymore. He would have never called that dump a home. Plus being called a soldier, someone to protect, in present tense felt good. It was what he always wanted. What was ripped from his fingers. 

 

He should say no. How could he? He did need a roof above his head. He could protect Neil from who knows what and not be alone all day. He tried to imagine Nicky’s reaction if he knew Andrew moved in with Neil. It would be a laugh. For a while at least. It was hard to figure out if the plan would annoy Aaron or make him overjoyed. He did say Andrew needed to be more social and needed to get out of the door. A roommate would do that. But from what Andrew heard, Aaron and Neil are only on semi-friendly bases. Meaning they don’t curse at each other but they won’t hang out when given the chance either. 

 

Well can’t have everything, and Neil’s house sure was nice. Andrew turned on his heels and walked to one of the empty tables instead of a bar stool. Neil didn’t help him get all the chairs of the table for them to eat. He did stay a little closer than Andrew had seen him do with anyone else. 

 

Andrew was eighty percent sure Neil had lied to him about wanting his protection but Andrew could live with it if Neil had a bed for him. He would ask about the rent later. Instead he sat on one of the pastel pink chairs and asked Neil another question. “Does your uncle pay for everything you do?”

 

Neil sat down too. “Not everything. He helped me set up this store but at the moment I own three of them. All in surrounding villages. Renee manages one of them on the days she doesn’t work here. He paid for the house and he would love to pay for new clothes in my closet as long as he got to choose what kind of clothes they were. With the money the shops make me I can buy food for myself and pay all my other bills. My uncle only comes around for Christmas anymore.”

 

“You have three coffee shops?” Andrew didn’t like stating the obvious but he felt like it was needed.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You don’t even need a flatmate. Or house mate in your case.” Andrew kept his face flat. He shouldn’t be as surprised as he was. Surprise had long since worn out his features. Strange that his brain could still make up those chemicals.

 

“I don’t need one but I want one. If you promise to talk to Renee and maybe help out in the shop once a week, kitchen duties, than I can even promise you, you don’t have to pay rent.” 

 

Andrew wanted to hit Neil, or kiss him. Or both. In that order. Hit him upside the head and grab him close by the collar. He didn’t do that. He would never do that. Not unless Neil wanted him too. 

 

“I can’t not pay rent.”

 

“That’s a double negative.”

 

“You’re a double negative, Pinocchio.”

 

“I told you. If you’re in the shop for one day a week. A job without human interaction and just one talk with Renee and it’s free. I’m a way you pay me by protecting me, talking to Renee and work.”

 

“Fine,” Andrew grunted. He crossed his arms. “Deal?”

 

“Deal,” Neil responded just as the delivery guy knocked on the door. “I’ll get it.” 

 

Andrew wanted to do something to that smile when Neil sat down. He just didn’t know what yet. It would have to wait. One day Andrew would know what to do about Neil. Maybe not today or tomorrow but someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and talk to me about this fic and more over on tumblr at queen-of-seventeen


	4. Do you still feel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew moves in with Neil and panics.  
> Andrew talks with Renee and on an unrelated note panics.  
> And the everlasting question of who joined whos apocalypse team?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the song by the same name by Rainman and MAX.
> 
> Thank you for the beta[akemiash](akemiash.tumblr.com)

Andrew did not have many material things he cared about to take to Neil’s place. Their place now. No, he wouldn’t think about it that way. It was like all the foster homes before. Neil would kick him out when he realized just how crazy Andrew was. It was only a matter of time.

 

If Andrew had a little more motivation he’d put up a countdown.

 

He put his bags down next to the boxes he’d brought in earlier. Four boxes. Two with books. The others with clothes. Neil had a bed for him so the other boxes contained clothes and bedding. The bag contained more clothes and the keys to his old GS.

 

The bedding in his bag was too small for the bed. It was king sized and decked in dark red bedding. His fingers clenched the strap of his duffel as he pulled it over his shoulder again. He walked out of the room as fast as the joint prosthetic of his foot would let him. He dodged Neil in the too big hall and started for the stairs.

 

“Andrew?” Neil yelled after him. “Where are you going?”

 

“That room is someone else’s. I’m not a replacement.”

 

“At first it was a guest room. Andrew! Matt from the shop? He and his girlfriend sometimes spend the night here and my uncle won’t tolerate anything less than huge when he stays over. It’s only big because of them. If you want a smaller bed I can call Matt to help move the one in the second guest room.”

 

How many rooms did Neil’s house have? Andrew didn’t like it. Too many hiding spaces. At the same time enough room for him to be on his own. “Why not put me in the second guest room?”

 

Neil cocked his head. “Because you’re going to live here? I assumed you’d stay for at least a couple of months. You need somewhere to sleep and something to sleep under. I do not want to die at my uncle's hands. That makes all these scars worth nothing.”

 

“Scars are never worth nothing.” Andrew stopped and turned towards Neil. The redhead stood still at the top of the stairs.

 

“True.” Neil licked his lips. “Yours are worth so much. Mean so much. Mine just represent the past.”

 

“Don’t they all?”

 

Neil stayed still. “Andrew, take the room. It’s not that bad. I promise nobody will come in there without you wanting them to.”

 

“You really want me to stay here. Yes or no?”

 

“Yes,” Neil said. “It’s always quiet here.”

 

Andrew took his time going back up the stairs. The room had a lock with a bronze key that Neil had laid out on the desk. Andrew shut Neil out before he could come in. He didn’t care how Neil felt about that.

 

He pushed the boxes off the bed and fell backward onto it. The bed was soft and he sinks into the plush bedding. Why was Neil doing this for him? What did he want? Everyone always wanted something but at least his room had a lock on the door. A lock he had the key too.

 

Andrew took a deep breath. Bee told him to breathe from his stomach. That way he was less likely to panic. Something he might do either way. He had a room in the same house as another man while he still couldn’t fully trust his prosthetic. It scared him a bit. His shirt fingernails pushed into the palm of his hands. It hurt but not enough. Breathing the way Bee told him to did not work. He promised Nicky and Aaron not smoke anymore for his health. Apparently one near death experience was enough for them. It was not enough for Andrew. He just wanted it all to stop. The sounds, the fast breathing, the thoughts.

 

His fingers fumbled with his phone before he got to his favorites. He’d hated it when Nicky set himself, Bee, and Aaron as favorites. He got it now. The phone rang. Once, twice, thrice. Click. “Hey, Andrew! Why did you call? You hate calling.”

 

Nicky's voice echoed through his head. It somehow seemed louder than the buzzing noise in his ears. “Andrew, are you okay? I can hear you wheezing.” Andrew didn’t answer and the sound became a bit more distant before coming back. “Andy, try to breathe with me. In for four and out for four. Make some noise if you understood.”

 

Andrew tried to say yes but his breathing still grew sharper. There was a stranger on the other side of the door. The room was too big. The house had too many rooms to hide in. He wasn’t safe. He crawled off the bed and sank down in a corner next to the closet. Better. Worse. Both. Neither. All of the fucking above.

 

“I’ll take the stumbling as a yes. Follow my breathing, in, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.” Nicky kept it up for a couple of minutes. Andrew heard Erik talking in the background. Soft, non-disturbing. At least Nicky was safe.

 

When Nicky noticed Andrew could breathe on his own he stopped counting. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

 

“No.” Andrew pulled his knees to his chest and started loosening the foot. If Neil wanted to kill him he’d probably be able to whether or not Andrew was wearing his foot.

 

“Do I need to text Bee or Aaron to call you?”

 

“I’m seeing Bee tomorrow. Could you just talk?” And he could hear the smile in Nicky’s voice when he said, yes.

 

It took Nicky over an hour of talking for Andrew to feel secure enough to leave his corner of the room. the only reason he did not panic again that very minute was that he had just spent ten minutes convincing Nicky that yes, he would be fine staying with Neil as his house and no, he did not want to go and sleep at Nicky and Erik’s instead. Sometimes his cousin could be adamant. His clothes were still in their boxes and bags. He didn’t have many things he took with him from the apartment since the bed was the only thing that was truly his and he didn’t feel like getting into a lawsuit for the other furniture when Neil had a bunch of nice things to fill his house up with already.

 

Neil’s house felt like a foster home all over again. The difference was that Neil had already had a chance to hurt him and didn’t. He had even given Andrew a hat to protect him against the cold. The difference was that Neil had given Andrew a room with a big bed. A room with a lock.  _ A lock _ . Andrew could keep everyone out if he wanted too. Neil had given him a safe space. Just for him. Quiet and all consuming but  _ his _ .

 

Andrew left the bags where they were. He crawled over to his crutches, it was easier and a bit faster than getting up, hopping over and going down again, and stood up. He wasn’t ready to go downstairs but he was hungry and Neil said there was leftover Chinese.

 

The Chinese were in no way leftovers because it was all warm in plastic bags and brought by Renee Walker. One of the million faces he did not want to see. Especially after his epic breakdown.

 

“Andrew, hello,” Renee said. She was sporting that stupid, little smile and her cross necklace and her hair were dyed in the same rainbow hues as the last time. Would Allison still do her hair? He couldn’t care enough to ask.

 

“What are you doing here?” Andrew hobbled to the kitchen island to sit on one of the bar chairs. His right crutch was just a couple centimeters off and it hurt his arms to use it for too long.

 

“Neil asked me to bring him Chinese. Dumplings and spring rolls. And I brought you something.” Renee kept standing. Her feet slightly apart. She was squaring up for a fight. A fight he couldn’t give her.

 

“You shouldn’t have.” He pulled the bags towards himself. Either Neil remembered Andrew’s order or he had told Renee he would be there. He guessed the latter. Meddlesome, ginger devil.

 

“I wanted to ask something.” She finally sat down on the opposite side. “Did you kick me out of your apocalypse team?”

 

Andrew clenched his jaw. If Neil overheard he wouldn’t understand but he did. “Forgot how to take care of yourself?”

 

“Just didn’t know how it felt to get frozen out by you. I should’ve called Aaron for advice.” Her fingers fiddled with the necklace. The light sparkled off the silver.

 

“He would tell you he is the only doctor I still trust.”

 

“Because the other ones amputated your foot? It was blown to bits!”

 

“You wouldn’t know about my limbs or any missing parts.”

 

“You didn’t tell me.”

 

“I didn't know I was obligated too.”

 

“Andrew, I’m your friend. Nicky and I made up your nickname. We had our first drinks together.”

 

He wanted to go upstairs and hole himself up in the room Neil prepared for him. He got too chatty with Renee. Always did. It tired him. But he did not go upstairs. This was one of the conditions of living in this house. This way he would not bother Nicky even more.

 

He gulped. “I do not owe you anything. You do not owe me anything. If the zombies decide to eat me I’m not your problem.”

 

Neither of them knew if the zombies were physical or mental. She wanted to hug him. She didn’t. He wouldn’t appreciate it.

 

“At least take the plant, Andy. You could throw it at their heads. Convince the zombies to become vegan.”

 

“I could throw it at  _ your _  head.”

 

Renee smiled at him like she knew he wouldn’t. She was right. It made Andrew want to throw it even more. “Keep it. Almost everything in here is Neil’s. let something be yours. Keep it in your room for all I care. This pancake plant is low maintenance after all.”

 

“Pancake plant?” Her smile grew wider. “Okay, I will not throw it at your head. I just want to eat.”

 

She joined him in finding plates. She knew where all of them were. If she wasn’t a lesbian- He’d almost assume she was dating Neil. Neil sat down at the counter as they pulled the food from the bags.

 

“I hope the talk went well. I don’t see broken plates anywhere so I’ll believe the silence.” His eyes zeroed in on the plant. “She gave you a plant. Renee, didn’t I tell you all of those die in my house.”

 

“I’m sure Andrew is better with them than you are. He used to have green fingers.”

 

“From here all I can see are short ones. In training camp could his finger even reach the trigger.” Andrew _  froze _ . His mind sending him miles away. Finger on the trigger. He heard shots all around him. The small house in front of him was empty except for a small boy holding a gun in his hands. He didn’t shoot Andrew. Andrew didn’t shoot him. The guy behind Andrew did and the blood splattered on Andrew’s face. The little boy was dead. Dead and gone and Andrew hadn’t been able to help him. One more person that he had let down.

 

Renee tried to cover up for Andrew’s panic but Neil had already noticed. 

 

Neil didn’t get closer. He did talk. Directly to Andrew. “Andrew, can you hear me?” Silence to wait for an answer. “Okay, breathe with me first. In, out. In, out. Can you tell me three things you can hear.”

 

No, he couldn’t. He should. Nicky used to do this for him too.

 

“Your voice, my heart, Renee eating.”

 

“Three things you see.”

 

“Your hair, the ugly drawing on the fridge, spring rolls.”

 

“Three things you can feel.”

 

“The chair, my ankle, my shirt.”

 

Andrew’s breathing evened out a bit more. This was not a good day. This was the second time that day he had freaked out. Maybe he did need to sleep with Nicky for the night. This day was not having a good impact on him.

 

“Andy, do you still carry the knives?” Renee asked. He nodded. “Than there is nothing to be truly afraid of.”

 

“There is always something to be afraid of.”

 

It took her a second to regain control of her face but he had already seen the sad look. He didn’t feel sorry. Feeling sorry meant feeling something at all. Something other than fear and pain and horror. Everything was grey but sometimes things were alarmingly red. This was just a very red day.

 

Dinner finished quickly. Renee helped put the plates in the washer. No more having to wash them by hand for Andrew.  It was probably the highlight of the day.

 

He hobbled after Renee to let her out of the house. Neil was trying to set up Netflix on his tv. He claimed he only took it because Matt couldn’t pay for it and Neil knew he wouldn’t just accept Neil paying for the account.

 

“Don’t forget to throw the plant at the zombies.”

 

“I don’t forget anything,” Andrew answered because he could not say thank you. A couple more session with Bee and he would tell her.

 

Renee leaned against the doorframe and Andrew leaned on his crutches. “So is Neil in your apocalypse team?”

 

Andrew had to think about that. In the end, the answer was simple. “It’s either I take him for mine or he already took me for his. I’m not sure which it is.”

 

Renee hummed. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

 

The door closed behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like the chapter?
> 
> If there are any questions or you want to rant about this story, another one of my stories or my favorite people you can always hit me up on [tumblr](queen-of-seventeen.tumblr.com)
> 
> *youtuber voice* if you liked this fic please consider to like and subscribe! ;*


	5. I want to get better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from a song by the bleachers
> 
> We're finally getting the blessed Bee and Andrew content we need. Andrew trying to talk to people and working, honoring his agreements. And a small surprise from Neil. A good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of suicidal thoughts
> 
> I HC that Andrew has Dysthemic depression, especially in this story, it's long term and when started as a kid it's very hard to get rid of it so it fits very well for this version of him. That also means that it's more an ideating/romanticization of suicide than actual intentions. It's hard to remember happiness and he can feel it some days but most of the time it's either nothing or a lot of anger and fear and "bad" feelings.

“It has been a while since we last saw each other,” Bee said. It had taken a little longer to schedule with her than Andrew had promised Nicky. It took a week. She handed Andrew a mug with hot chocolate. His mug. He remembered it from back when he first started coming to her in college. She had known all his secrets.

 

“Is there anything in particular that you wanted to talk about?” Her smile was the same as always but she had gotten new glasses. She needed to dye her hair again. 

 

“Nicky said I had to go,” Andrew said. It wasn’t a full truth. Truth’s hurt. It was all he knew. “Aaron said I had to go. Commander Richards from squad 54DS-O2 said it was a good idea to talk about it. Recommended a couple shrinks. I don’t trust them.”

 

Andrew twisted his fingers in the sleeve of his sweater. The cold weather made it feel like his ankle was freezing off. Wouldn’t be surprising if it did. He hated it. He was ordered to walk with the cane by Aaron. For once he complied. Walking on the snow had been bad enough with two real feet. He did not want to try it with one and half. 

 

“Did you want to come, Andrew?” The tapping on Betsy’s notebook annoyed him but he wouldn’t tell her.

 

“Yes. I have to. I have a housemate now. I can’t have him coming to his home and finding out I shot myself because I couldn’t bear living with one foot.” He took a deep breath. The Elastics in his sweater sleeve snapped. “It is true. That could happen. I don’t want Nicky getting a call that I hung myself either. He would feel bad for not being able to help.” 

 

He swallowed back the tears. He would not cry. Why was that his default mode? Panic, tears, anger, fear, bad feeling only. It sucked. 

 

“Okay, may I ask how much you think about this?” 

 

He nodded. “Every couple of days but I won’t do it. Nicky took me in first when I was sixteen. Again after the accident. I don’t want to let him down.” 

 

Andrew looked up at Betsy. She wasn’t smiling. Her pen had stopped tapping. He knew how proud she was when he joined the army. How proud she was that he was going to help people. He was going to save them. He was finally okay enough to save them. 

 

They had both conveniently forgotten that the ‘dysthymic depression’, what a fucked up long word, was likely to come back. Or that he had just taught himself to live around it. The chance to get rid of it when you’re a childhood ‘victim’ is terribly small after all.

 

“Why would Nicky be led down?” Bee asked. “Do you think it’s a good idea to tell Nicky and ask if he’s disappointed?” 

 

Andrew should tell Nicky the full extend. How he doesn’t want to bother him but most of the time he is the only one Andrew feels comfortable enough to talk to. How Andrew is afraid to live with Nicky and Erik because he thinks Erik hates him for taking up all of Nicky’s time. That he doesn’t call when he needs to half of the time. He doesn’t. He should. Nicky told him he wanted him to. Still Andrew doesn’t do that. He’s already annoying Nicky enough as is. 

 

He doesn’t want to put more pressure on his family. Not Aaron now that Kaitlyn and he finally have good times at the hospital and not Nicky who always wanted kids. 

 

Andrew had overheard them a while ago. Erik and Nicky that is. Erik said that Nicky had to let Andrew go. That he had to make his own choices. That they couldn’t go through with wanting to adopt while they had Andrew to care for like a second child.

 

“I don’t want to tell him. Not yet. I want to get better first. Not completely healed but better.”

 

Bee nodded. He knew she was thinking. He also knew she wouldn’t assume. She never did. She only wanted to help. In his words it was a fucking mess in his head with words and pictures and memories. In her words it was a little confusing and if he used this and this exercise he could overcome that. 

 

He hated the exercises. Like the pie diagram. Who even came up with that one? He hated that person. Almost as much as Neil. Neil who had made him chocolate chip pancakes when Nicky told him Andrew would visit Bee that day. Neil who had bought creamer and extra packs of sugar for Andrew’s coffee because that was how he liked it. 

 

It was all in his head and it was driving him crazy. His brain was on a constant loop of Neil. The last person who did stuff like this was Nicky. And Nicky did it because Andrew was family. Family was a misguided concept. It meant too much to Nicky. 

 

He needed to tell Bee. Now or next time. Preferably now. Maybe it would help to get Neil out of his system for a couple of hours. 

 

“Can we talk about my roommate? Should I tell him?” Another crack came from the sleeve of his sweater. At this rate he’d have loose cuffs on all his sleeves. 

 

Bee sipped her cocoa. “Start with things he already knows about you. Good and bad.” 

 

He was tempted to stand up and run in circles around the room. He was also tempted to just stretch out across the couch and take a long nap. He did neither of those. His eyes and hands focused on the sleeve. 

 

“He knows how I like my coffee. He gave me a room with a lock and both keys. I told him that I liked chocolate chips in my pancakes and he made it as a late birthday present. I didn’t even know him on my birthday. He witnessed me with a panic attack and with my ptsd a couple of times. Told me he couldn’t stand his hair color at first because he looks too much like his father. I didn’t tell him about the dysthymic. I hoped it was gone.”

 

“While it may not be gone you’ve made tremendous progress. You haven’t made an angry remark this whole session. You even told me you called Nicky last week. That was a good decision Andrew.” Another sip. “Now the important question, do you trust Neil enough to keep living with him?” 

 

He thought it over. With everything Neil knew about him. Everything that went wrong and right. How Neil never touched him even if he sometimes hoovered a bit. He was only making sure Andrew wouldn’t crash without crutch and prosthetic. Neil had already confessed it was something he did to reassure Nicky that Andrew was safe. 

 

It wasn’t needed. Andrew could hop around just fine on his own. He had survived living in his own apartment for months till he got kicked out. 

 

“I trust him. He hasn’t touched my since I got attacked and hadn’t before that either. Neil’s fine for now.” Andrew nodded a bit to himself. 

 

Bee filled the last ten minutes of the appointment with useless chatter. She went on about the shelter she sometimes visited. She couldn’t have a pet with the hours she kept but she had always loved cats. 

 

Andrew liked cats too. Videos of them and sometimes when he saw one on the street he wanted to pet them. He never did. He didn’t know if they’d get aggressive and he’d rather not try it out. It’s not like he wanted to be touched without consent either. Over time maybe he’d trust someone enough to touch him. Even if it was a cat. He’d feel a bit better.

 

**

 

A couple of days after his appointment with Bee, Andrew found himself in the kitchen of Neil’s cafe. He was rolling dough with all his strength. Renee sat on a stool, leaning on the counter while she read a book. It was her break. Between ten and eleven Neil could handle the shop on his own. 

 

“You would like this book, Andrew,” Renee said. She flipped another page. She had stolen two warm cinnamon cookies of the rack earlier and they were cooling off besides her elbow. She took his silence as a prompt to continue. “The protagonist is trying to capture the the kidnapper and alleged murderer.”

 

“Who do you think did it?” Andrew picked up the hump of dough and let it fall against the counter. Plop. He plucked a little bit of the ball and rolled it into a smaller one. Chocolate chip, his favorite. He was glad he wasn’t Aaron whose favorites were raisin cookies. The traitor. Those were disgusting. 

 

He chatted some more with Renee before her break was over and he had to put the cookies in the oven. What did Neil put on the list next? Red velvet cupcakes? He could do that?

 

The timer went of. Andrew went to the oven to check on the cookies and get them out. He wanted to taste some but he was already gaining so much weight out of the army. No time to think about that now. It was more of a two am thought. He should pour the cupcake batter. 

 

The end of the day was nearing. Neil had been right. Working in the kitchen wasn’t that bad. He got to eat cookies and didn’t have to talk to people if he didn’t want to. It was okay enough. 

 

Neil walked into the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools. His fingers started kneading a dough Andrew wanted to get back to later. It needed to rest. Only it seemed like Neil and his magic fingers had gotten it just in time. The dough was perfect as he rolled it out.

 

“I want to pick something up after work,” Neil said. “I think you should come with me.”

 

Andrew looked up from the plate of fresh cookies and shook his head. “When I agreed to working here I didn’t agree to be your errand boy.”

 

“It’s not for the shop. It’s for me and a bit for you since it’ll be in the house all the time.” Neil smiled at him. Bright and white and Andrew did not feel want. Did not want to want his new housemate. It’s not like Neil was ever interested in anyone after all. 

 

Neil left Renee to close the shop as they left. There were only a couple more people and both Neil and Andrew knew she could take care of herself. In the end she always kicked Andrew’s ass.

 

Neil drove. Andrew didn’t like sitting in the passenger seat. Had much prefered being the driver. It was too much of a hassle to get his license again. He could always walk or ask Nicky to take him places. Only now Neil was sitting next to him. Was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. His taps just a second off from the beat of the song. 

 

Andrew wanted to take him out. Take him to Rolants club and see if he was at bad as dancing as he presumed. No. That wouldn’t happen. He didn’t like dancing anyway. Had only gone along with it because it was the one place that let him drink. 

 

Andrew didn’t notice the silence until he looked out of the window again. They were parked in front of a shelter. The brick outside looked just as inviting as the staff were sure to be. It reminded him of the foster homes he lived in as a kid. “I don’t like this place.” 

 

“I don’t think the animals inside do either. Thought that we could rescue one.”

 

“I don’t like dogs.” There was only Arlan and he had gotten shot up on that last mission. Not that Arlan was even his. Technically Mitch owned him but it was the squad’s dog. Any of them would have rather been shot that have harm come to Arlan. 

 

“There’s cats and rabbits and guinea pigs. All I’m asking is for you to go inside. I’m not even forcing you to take a therapy dog and I know your brother wants you to have one.” 

 

Andrew stared at the street in front of him. He knew that if Neil asked him he’d say yes. But why would he be a good pet parent? He couldn’t protect anyone like this. Much less something that needed food and water and to be taken outside. 

 

“I’m not buying one,” he said as he got out of the car. No harm could come from looking. 

 

The girl behind the counter wasn’t that bad. She knew what she was talking about and didn’t try to get closer to them. Probably trained by all the messed up animals that arrived at the shelter. 

 

He ignored the flyer for help at the door when he entered the hallway with the cages. He totally didn’t look how many days they needed a volunteer for. He didn’t even like animals. 

 

There were animals everywhere he looked. Neil stopped by one of the cages near the beginning and asked the girl to get it out for him. Guess Neil had already made a decision, No harm in looking further then, no? 

 

The hall was longer than he thought and at the end at the back of a small cage was a fat, black cat. It appeared to be sleeping but it opened its eyes as soon as Andrew reached for the door. It was a mirror. If he was fat, ugly and stupid. 

 

He didn’t want to leave it. Wanted to offer him a chance. The chance Andrew got from Nicky. He stood up from his crouch. “We’re taking this one.” 

 

He hadn’t meant to take two cats home, since when was it home, with them. For Nicky to name them as Neil had already told him the plan before dragging Andrew out there. King fluffkins and Sir fat cat McCaterson. Stupid names. Stupid cats. Stupid cousin and housemate.

 

Stupid animals that slept on his bed and were fast enough the run away after they woke him up from nightmares. If he scratched Sirs head and Kings belly nobody had to know. 

 

They were stupid cats after all and Andrew didn’t even like animals. Stupid cats that Neil had bought for him. Because Neil wanted him to feel better and do something different than wallow. Stupid not friend gifting him stupid cats. Stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. If I forget to write again visit me on tumblr on @queen-of-seventeen or on instagram at @crown.jpeg to pester me into writing ;*


	6. Not an update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is in no way an update in the story but more on my life and waiting times

Hey guys!

I think I told you guys this before but I have dysthemia which is also the disorder I'm portraying with Andrew. It's like long term, low key depressed. I've been having a good couple of days but had a complete breakdown again today. Now why is this important to all of you?

First of all because I'm taking a break from fanfics. I'm still finishing my reverse big bang piece but I won't be writing fanfics or any other projects for the next weeks or maybe even months. 

I believe it's a combination of a burn out and my mental disorder that is making me not enjoy writing anymore. I know that if I would force myself to write I could get the chapters out to all of you but the quality of it would be very very low with terrible pacing. 

I hope you understand and wish you all the best. Updates may or may not come back.

Love, Noa


	7. Give me love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from the Ed Sheeran song.
> 
> Recipe for today’s chapter: two tablespoons of pining, a pinch of Andrew’s favourite chocolate cereal, two cups of backyards littered with cigarette buts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! I’ll explain more at the end, not beta’d but I didn’t want you to wait even longer.

The spoon still felt warm against Andrew’s lips. He’d snagged it out of the dishwasher as soon as it ended. Warm spoons were easier to eat ice cream with. Nicky had taught him that the first week they lived together. Before the army, before the accident. Before everything. 

 

He should probably be eating breakfast. It was only nine am. That was proven when the front door slammed shut. Andrew could hear Neil take of his wind breaker. The rustle of the jacket against the door was familiar. Too familiar. 

 

Andrew heard the chirping of Neil’s phone seconds before his own went off. Probably Nicky. His cousin had been sending messages to Neil to check up on Andrew. If Andrew didn’t know better it would make him feel like a little kid. In reality he needed Neil to send Nicky updates. His cousin didn’t always believe him because Andrew didn’t want to scare him. It’s why Nicky miraculously appears every time Andrew tells him he’s doing something by himself. It’s why Andrew acts like he knows nothing about the find my friends app on his phone because it also lets him check up on Nicky.

 

“Good morning,” Neil said when he entered the kitchen. He was wearing his winter running outfit. The thighs sticking to his skin. Andrew didn’t notice. He didn’t notice. He did. He didn’t like that he did. 

 

How long had he been up already? Nope. Don’t care. He stared at Neil while he stretched in front of the fridge before getting a bottle of water. 

 

One of Neil’s earbuds dangled down as he slid a bottle of water over the table to Andrew. He watched it dangle. Left, right, left, right. “Nicky says that Aaron says you have to drink more water.”

 

“I say that I don’t.” Andrew levelled a blank stare. 

 

Neil smiled. It stretched the scars on his cheek but he didn’t seem to care. Andrew knew he did. He saw the pots of burn cream in the bathroom. 

 

“You found the cereal. This one has the highest chocolate count of all the cereals at the store.” Neil opened his own bottle with his long fingers. 

 

Andrew really had to stop getting distracted. Neil wasn’t interested. Period. 

 

“It’s okay.” 

 

“Better than my coffee?”

 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

 

Neil wiggled his eyebrows and grabbed two mugs from a cupboard. He hummed while making the coffee. Two spoons of sugar. Black for the monster. Said monster sat down opposite of him and grabbed the paper from the corner of the table. 

 

He skimmed the front page before scoffing. “This guy didn’t kill her. He doesn’t have the guts. You can see it in his eyes. Either he was forced or he didn’t do it.”

 

“What do you know of death?” Andrew murmured. He slurped the coffee. He knew the sound grated Neil’s nerves. 

 

“I know at least as much of death as you, soldier boy. You could say the two of us are old acquaintances.” 

 

Andrew scoffed as he snatched the paper out of Neil’s hands to check the image. Neil was right dammit. Andrew still knew everything his criminology classes had taught him and this wasn’t a killer. At least not on purpose or from malicious intent. “I was a criminology major before I got send to the army.”

 

“I was a math major. The shop was a graduation present from my uncle.” No word about the army. Wasn’t he going to ask? Everyone always asked but than Andrew had never offered so much truths to someone. What about Neil made him want to say those things. It wasn’t his face. Roland had had a pretty face but he never told Roland anything. He was just there for a fuck. Convenient and easy if you were nice enough to him. 

 

Neil wasn’t convenient, nor easy. He was just annoying. Annoying that he remembered how Andrew liked his coffee and that he favored chocolate shells over rice puffs. 

 

He pushed himself away from the table and grabbed the cane. “I’m going out to smoke.” Then when Neil made to follow. “Alone.”

 

Neil nodded and sat down again. The paper rustled as he folded it open again. The sound felt itchy to Andrew’s ears. “I might be in the study or on the porch if you want to take the backyard.”

 

He thought about it. Watching the boring yard or people. He nodded. Backyard it is.  

 

His footfalls were quiet as he wandered to the yard. He didn’t believe in luck but he was glad he’d grabbed a hoodie before stepping out the door. The smell concluded that it was Neil’s. The smell of fresh pastries always clung to him even after a shower. Too bad it was bright orange. 

 

He didn’t close the door all the way when before he sat down in one of the chairs. The metal was cold but it didn’t snow yet so he was safe enough. He wouldn’t die of hypothermia just yet. And what a boring death that would be. He could see the headline.  _ Veteran dies of hypothermia in own backyard.  _

 

Would they even say it’s his backyard? No. This wasn’t his home. He only lived with Neil so he would bother Nicky. Nicky whose chile con carne was as close to a home as Bee’s chocolate. 

 

He needed a smoke. Stupid sentimental crap. 

 

One drag. Two drags. His fingers itched to punch something. The smoke he exhaled wasn’t satisfactory. The burn felt good but it did nothing to muddle his thoughts from the everlasting buzz. His fingers slipped into his pocket. Warmer but warmth wasn’t what he was looking for. He pulled the phone from his pocket and scrolled through the contacts. Aaron, Abby, Bee, Coach, there. Renee. 

 

**||When do you have time?**

 

The reply didn’t take her long to send. 

 

**||Tomorrow night? Spar or brushing up?**

 

He didn’t want to admit it. He really didn’t. He was just as good as Renee. Or used to be. Past tense. Everything past tense. Fuck.

 

**||Brushing up. I can’t stand on the prosthetic for too long yet.**

 

He didn’t believe in regret. He believed he was smart. That text wasn’t. He’d never explained himself until he started limping through life. It made him feel, not worse, not better, more nothing. Nothing. Dumb word. 

 

Dumb him. Stupid leg. Bad text. He shouldn’t be alone. Bee would tell him not to be alone. Nicky would sit next to him on the steps. Nicky was working. 

 

Should he send him a text. Ask to call again. No. Nicky had work. 

 

A text wouldn’t hurt. 

 

**||do you trust Neil?**

 

**N ||Y? Did he do something?**

 

**||No. Do you trust him?**

 

**N ||Yes**

 

**||Okay.**

 

Andrew send off one last text and didn’t wait for a reply. He just, kept seated on the same metal chair. He lit one cigarette more. He put it out. He lit a second cigarette. He put it out. A third.

 

A hand stopped him. 

 

“You’re wasting them.” The clang of two mugs on the table before Neil sat down at his side. The hoodie was Andrew’s. The blanket he brought was new. Orange. It had white dots on it. He hated it on sight. A lie. Of course it would be Neil’s new favourite. Another lie. Neil proffered Andrew’s purple one. 

 

“Two spoons of sugar right?” Neil’s eyes were wide. Lips slightly open. Andrew wanted to kiss him. He never would. 

 

“Only if it makes the medicine go down.” Andrew leaned forwards to snatch both his coffee and one side of the blanket. 

 

Neil’s eyebrows drew together. “Why would you take medicine? Are you sick?”

 

“It’s Mary Poppins. Even foster kids know it.” 

 

The crease in Neil’s forehead grew deeper. “Are you a foster kid?”

 

“That doesn’t answer what happened to your childhood.”

 

“Should it?”

 

“I was.”

 

“I ran away from home from age ten to seventeen.”

 

Andrew clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to punch something. Hard. That something could be Neil. He did want to punch Neil. Only not with his hands. But with his mouth on Neil’s mouth.

 

No. He promised himself he wouldn’t think like that again. Neil wasn’t interested. 

 

He wouldn't be like them. Most of all he would be like all the man who used their PTSD as a cause for all their actions. He would be better than that. For Neil. For Nicky. For Bee. For Renee. For Aaron. For himself. 

 

Yeah, for himself. He deserved to be better. Not today. Tomorrow maybe.

 

“How long were you in foster care?” Neil broke the silence. 

 

“Birth till college.”

 

“But you weren’t in college when I was.”

 

“I need more incentive to keep talking.” Andrew took a drag. Not enough satisfaction. 

 

“I stopped running because my mother left me with my uncle. He took me in before I started college here.”

 

“I enrolled with the army my second year. People didn’t appreciate my ways of protecting Nicky.”

 

“The assholes at the club?”

 

Andrew kept silent. Neil didn’t offer up more information about himself. The silence must’ve been an answer to him. Andrew didn’t want it to be an answer to him. He didn’t want Neil to understand him like he did because Andrew would fall and Neil would be none the wiser. 

 

Andrew should leave. Walk away now and take Nicky’s spare bedroom. He didn’t. He just pulled up his legs and pulled the blanket higher. “Who gave you this monstrosity?”

 

“Matt did. He bought it for his place but it was a bit much, even for Dan.”

 

Neil pitched in when Andrew stayed silent. “Dan is his girlfriend of years. They also went to Palmetto. They know Aaron and can miraculously hold a conversation with him. I don’t think Aaron likes me too much.”

 

“Aaron doesn’t like anyone.”

 

“He liked Kaitlyn, Nicky on a good day, you.”

 

“He doesn’t.”

 

“Why else would he ask me to make sure you drink enough water?”

 

“You said Nicky asked you too.”

 

“You’re more likely to listen when Nicky is involved. You like Nicky. On a good day. Aaron and you have that in common.”

 

“Not just on a good day.”

 

Neil looked at him like he’d found yet another corner piece of a puzzle. Andrew was the puzzle and his life was the playing field. Neil had the advantage because Nicky would never shut up. Andrew would have to speak to Matt to even gain a grain of knowledge. 

 

He’d rather find out from Neil himself. He listened to the highs and lows of his voice as the winter sun finally started rising. There were still some birds left chirping at the light. It felt domestic. Safe. Sound. Sound. Soul. Neil’s soul. It probably had the shape of a pretty blue gem. Unlike Andrew’s which was a black diamond. Hard, dark. Nicky would rather have him gold. Soft and pliant. But his family would wait. He knew they would.

 

His family had taped him together and given him tools to build his own place. An open space not a cage around his heart. A heavy door like the ones they had in the churches some of his foster families took him to. 

 

He pulled the blanket off Neil and stood. “Get up loser, I’m going to educate you on mrs. Andrew’s and the art of singing one movie at a time.”

 

“Why are we watching movies?”

 

“You haven’t seen Mary Poppins.”

 

“So?”

 

“We’re going to watch together.” 

 

“Fine, I’ll watch your movie. If you take a walk with my tomorrow, a short one.”

 

Andrew thought. He’d get to sit on a couch ordering Neil around today if he had a short walk tomorrow. He could only agree. He just didn’t know that Neil equated six hours of movies to two hours walking, but he would find that out tomorrow. And he’d find a hot bath shortly after that.

 

But for now he changed a bad morning into an okay day. With some help. But also with himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m back! Sort of. I’m intending to write a chapter a month if I can keep it up with school but I’m officially in remission from my depression and will probably be free of therapy when group ends so that’s all great news. I know the chapter isn’t the longest but after this break it was a real fight to get through. I won’t say it’s my best but it’s not terrible either at least.
> 
> Hit me up about this story and other things at queen-of-seventeen on tumblr.

**Author's Note:**

> You don't know how long I've been walking around with this idea in my head.
> 
> \- queen-of-seventeen


End file.
